


& i saw what it was i had done

by disarmed



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmed/pseuds/disarmed
Summary: "I came around to see Stefan," she pauses, "I wanted to thank him for finding my necklace." She fingers the chain around her neck and doesn't look at Damon when his face tightens. "But he's just gone out, so I said I'd wait." (The things Elena Gilbert does and doesn't remember, and the things Damon Salvatore does and doesn't know.)
Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	& i saw what it was i had done

**Author's Note:**

> in an effort to save some of the older fandom works (rip lj), i'm cross-posting mine here. back in the day when season 2 was fresh out the gate, and damon/stefan had just rescued elena from rose, trevor and elijah.

\--

  
_but last night we fell apart_  
_and broke to pieces._  
_our love was in the hall_  
_all packed in boxes._  
_and i saw what it was_  
_that i had done to you._  
_i was wrong._

\--

_  
"God, I wish you didn't have to forget this. But you do."_  
  
Elena's eyes snap open like a book would slam shut. Sharp, almost heavy, her gaze takes in the empty space in front of her. Her room looks exactly the same as it did seconds ago, everything in it's place, everything where it should; where it had been. Her hand moves up to her collarbone, and her fingers touch the round pendant of the vervain necklace fastened around her neck. It's cool to the touch, smooth, and she lets her fingers linger for a moment.  
  
She looks to the open window, with the curtain blowing about in the breeze, and then at the bathroom from where she came not moments ago. It's a small room, but things have happened in this room, things have been said. Elena can look to a certain corner and remember Stefan throwing himself away from her, curbing his blood lust. She can look at her pillows and remember Bonnie, showing her magic for the first time, where feathers floated through the air. Her eyes linger on the bathroom, and then she slowly makes her way to the corner of the bed. She sits on the edge carefully, left leg under her right, and touches her necklace.  
  
Something gnaws on the edges of her mind, makes her want to get up and pace, because she's restless and maybe not so much reckless. But she could be. She has been before. She's confused, she knows that much for certain. She feels the blood in her veins thrum and hum and race through her like it's pushing, pushing at her to do something.  
  
But _what?_  
  
Her fingers clasp around the circular pendant and she looks at her dresser. She gazes at the pretty white teacup sitting in a saucer, and knows the tea inside is still warm. She only made it not fifteen minutes ago before she came upstairs. She doesn't normally drink tea, but after what happened today, after losing her vervain necklace... Stefan had suggested she should be drinking the same tea Jenna was, until he'd had a new necklace crafted. She'd worried about him drinking her blood, but no, Stefan half-smiled and said he'd cope with the hospital stuff, at least for a few days.  
  
So there she had been, less than half an hour ago, drinking vervain tea before bed, just in case.  
  
_"God, I wish you didn't have to forget this. But you do."_  
  
Elena exhales heavily to calm herself. "But I haven't."  
  
++  
  
The next day leads to fine weather and clouded minds. Elena is full of turmoil and angst and heartache, because Damon's words are stuck in her head, his kiss is imprinted on her forehead, and the tear from his eye is in hers.  
  
She is indecisive and messy. She tries on different pieces of clothing and discards them as quickly as she first looked at them, because she just _doesn't know_. Jeans, shorts, dresses, skirts, tights, tops and socks. The colors are wrong and the fabric makes her skin itch, and her mind isn't in the right place when she pulls a tee shirt on back to front.  
  
Jeremy asks her, _"Sultana Bran, or Special K?"_ when she gets to the kitchen, and she looks at him with such a horrified expression that Jeremy drops both the boxes and rushes across to hug her tightly, even though he doesn't know what's wrong. Elena clings to him desperately, glad to have someone so solid and calm to hold on to, when she herself is as scattered as leaves in autumn.  
  
"I don't know what to do," she says hoarsely into his shoulder, and Jeremy just holds her close and murmurs, 'shh,' into her hair, his hand warm on her back. Elena knows he's burning to ask what's wrong, but he doesn't, and she's so grateful she could cry.  
  
++  
  
She sits in her car for a very long time. Her keys are in her hands and leaving indentations in her skin. She opens her palms and looks at the little dents for a moment. Then she puts her key in the ignition and drives off.  
  
++  
  
The effort it takes to get out of the car when she gets to the Boarding House is monumental. It's just gone midday, and the sun is high, and her heart is racing like nothing before it. She's on the doorstep when Stefan opens the door, and the shock it gives her almost sends her into cardiac arrest. She exhales.  
  
"Stefan."  
  
He smiles at her, "Elena?" He tilts his head, "I didn't know you were coming around."  
  
"I," and she swallows, "was feeling strange, at home. After what happened, I guess, I just felt more comfortable around you and Damon."  
  
There's a little shadow that passes over his face at his brother's name, but he nods. "I was actually just going out hunting," he says apologetically, "I'm getting kind of, well," he gives her a smile that's a little tight. "I'll be back in an hour or so if you want to wait?"  
  
Elena considers this, "that'll be good." Stefan steps aside so she can go inside, and she shoots him a smile and says, "good luck."  
  
It didn't even occur to her that Damon might not be there, but as she walks down the hall and puts her bag in in the sitting room, she realizes that he may not be.  
  
"Elena," and she turns to see him strolling down the stairs, "and to what do I owe this pleasure?"  
  
So he's home.  
  
And she's forgotten how to speak.  
  
Damon raises an eyebrow at her silence.  
  
She finds herself as quickly as she can. "I came around to see Stefan," she pauses, "I wanted to thank him for finding my necklace." She fingers the chain around her neck and doesn't look at Damon when his face tightens. "But he's just gone out, so I said I'd wait."  
  
Damon walks past her. "I'll leave you to your waiting then."  
  
"Damon," she says, loudly, maybe a little too loud, because he turns around and looks a little amused. "I-- did Stefan go out last night?"  
  
"No," he says flatly. Then he turns to walk off, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he asks, "why?"  
  
Elena sits down on the couch and plays with her necklace. "I thought I'd lost it, the necklace," she clarifies, "and, I know I didn't have it on last night, but then..." Her brows furrow and she looks up at him, at his unreadable expression. "Then it was around my neck and-- maybe I was dreaming, or asleep and just don't remember but--" She shrugs, "I'd like to know how he got it around my neck without me noticing, or even remembering."  
  
"Charming story," he drawls, though he looks anything but charmed.  
  
"Thank you for coming to get me." It's meant to sound sincere and slow, but what comes out is, _"thankyoucomingtome."_  
  
Damon blinks. "What?"  
  
Elena takes a deep breath. "I meant, thank you for coming to get me."  
  
Damon waves her off, "Stefan needed a wing man, I'm always up for the action." He gives her a smirk and a half and makes for the door again.  
  
"I wish--" she says suddenly, "that I could forget, you know?"  
  
This conversation looks to be the last place Damon wants to be, because he's been aiming for the door countless times, but her voice has stopped him. This time he even takes a step towards her, eyes narrowed and guarded. "What do you mean?"  
  
Elena looks up at him, "there are things I want to forget, so badly," and she takes a breath, "and there are things I wish I could remember." Damon just looks at her. "Sometimes, I feel like there are things that I'm missing, things have been said or done and they're important but I can't grasp them."  
  
"Elena," he says, and he sounds tired, "I'm not in the mood for a heart to heart right now."  
  
Elena stands up and moves closer to him, because she wants him to say it, goddamnit. "Do you ever want to forget? Do you ever wish someone would compel you?" She searches his face, "Damon?"  
  
His gaze is unreadable, completely and utterly. "No." Then he stalks away, "Stefan will be back soon."  
  
Then she hears the slam of the door and realizes she's alone.  
  
++  
  
Stefan comes back to find her reading through books in the sitting room, curled up on the couch. She's tired and upset and distressed, and she's been reading the same line in her book for the past ten minutes. Stefan indulges in her excuses when she says she has to go, but she wanted to see him first. She bumbles through a few sentences and looks at him helplessly, so he gives her a quick hug and tells her to go. She's not sure what he thinks of her right now, but this up in airs, disorganized body of Elena Gilbert must be strange to him. Her lie earlier is ridiculous now, and she can see the sadness in Stefan's eyes, and it eats at her, but she can't stay. She just _can't._  
  
"Elena," he says as she she's leaving. "You found your necklace?"  
  
Her fingers fly to it so quick Stefan's eyes narrow. "I--" and she just can't manage a lie. So she nods, and disappears out of the house as quick as she can.  
  
++  
  
It's very obvious that Damon is avoiding her. The next week she sees very little of either brother, but Damon seems to have made it his life's mission to _not_ see her. She's torn up and at the brink when Jenna asks, "are we eating out tonight?" and directs the question to Elena.  
  
Jeremy jumps in and says, "yeah, sure," because Elena has a stricken look on her face, a look he's seen a few times over the week when his sister has been asked to make a decision. Then he glances at Elena and says, "but maybe we should just go. I don't think Elena's feeling too well."  
  
Elena nods, thankful for her brother more than ever. "Could you bring me back something?" Even though she's not hungry. Anticipation eats at her.   
  
Jenna looks ready to protest, but Jeremy is herding her out the door, giving Elena a quick look, to which she returns with a smile.  
  
She stands slumped over the kitchen island for a few minutes, before getting her phone and scrolling through her contacts.  
  
_To: Damon  
where are you?_  
  
She doesn't get a reply in the next five minutes, she pulls up his number again and calls him. The phone rings for a while, but then there's a click and gruff, _"what, Elena?"_  
  
She's shocked into silence and then; "I need you to come over. Right now."  
  
_"What's wrong?"_ The concern in his voice does stupid things to her.  
  
She hangs up.  
  
She makes some more tea, deliberately, and puts a cup of it on the kitchen island, in front of her where she is standing. Four minutes and twenty something seconds later, the front door opens and Damon appears in the kitchen. Not like she was counting or anything. She watches as Damon's eyes take in everything, and then her, undisturbed nor in any immediate danger. He looks at her flatly.  
  
"Cheap trick, Elena."  
  
"You've been ignoring me."  
  
Damon narrows his eyes. "No, I've been busy."  
  
"Ignoring," says Elena, eyebrows raised. She reaches forward and picks up her teacup. She pretends to sip at it slowly, aware of Damon watching her every move. It's hard, acting as if she's swallowing something, and then she sets the cup down again. Damon eyes it with a somewhat intent expression. "Tea," Elena tells him. "Vervain tea."  
  
"Why are you drinking vervain tea?" He asks her, "you got your necklace back?"  
  
Elena sighs a little, and looks from the cup to him. "Well, after drinking it last week, when I didn't have my necklace," Damon's eyes are like steel, "I guess I just acquired a taste for it." She makes a face. "It's good I suppose, if I were to lose my necklace again, I couldn't be compelled."  
  
She moves around the island, and Damon's eyes are suppressed wildfire. She looks at him with as much sincerity as she can manage. "I remember."  
  
"Remember what?" He asks, and there's something a little desperate in his voice.  
  
Elena shakes her head. " _Damon_." His name on her tongue feels so right, heavy and sweet and fitted, like her mouth was molded to say it over and over again. She can't help herself, she thought it was going to happen that night, but it didn't. He'd kissed her forehead. But this time, this time, where it's again just them, and he's standing there in front of her with eyes that _know_ her...  
  
She surges up, hands on his face as her lips touch his. He jerks back, unsuspecting and also _wanting_ , and Elena pulls back to search his face. There's a film in her eyes that she knows can lead to tears. "I was drinking vervain tea, Damon, you never compelled me. I remember _everything_ , everything you said, everything you did."  
  
"Elena--"  
  
"I love you, Damon."  
  
There's the confession. It hangs between them and fills the room and wraps itself around them and draws them in. Damon looks so unsure, and God knows she feels it, but there's a moment of silence where all they do is look at each other, and then--  
  
He's on her. Lips and tongue and teeth at hers. Hands on her face and her neck and her shoulders, her waist and her hips. She clutches him to her like she might lose him at any moment. The next thing she knows she's up on the counter, Damon holding her face and kissing her desperately as he steps between her legs.  
  
"Damon-- I--"  
  
And he draws back, and she sees the wall go up again. She grasps at his face firmly. "I want you, Damon-- I do."  
  
"Stefan--"  
  
"I'm not with Stefan," she stresses, "I haven't been since before the Masquerade Ball, Damon-- I _chose_ you."  
  
It's like he suddenly gets it, suddenly gets that this is what she wants. What she's chosen, finally. He gathers her tight against his chest, kisses on her head and cheek and nose, and then she has to move to get him to kiss her lips, and when he does, it's hot and hard and everything she realizes she's not had and _needed_. His hands are on her hips and she's pressing up against his chest, and she realizes that she wants this. She wants Damon, and she wants _al_ l of him. This registers as her fingers are on the buttons of his shirt, working with hungry need.  
  
"Elena--Elena--" her name is on his lips repeatedly, even as his lips meet the hollow of her throat.  
  
"Jenna--" she manages to get out, "she'll be home soon." His kisses slow. "Hurry." His eyes are a a little shocked and a lot amused, even as he runs his hands down to her thighs and pulls them tight around his hips. She hooks her arms around his neck and shuts her eyes, tight, because she's never going to get used to the shock-fast motion of their inhuman speed. The next thing she knows she's being placed on her bed, a little more than gently, and Damon's on top of her, covering her with his body and his hands and his scent and every inch of the love he tried in vain to take away.  
  
It's skin on skin and the heated rush of clothes coming off, and Elena has to pause, and has ridiculous as it sounds, admire his sleek form. He's all lean muscle and smooth skin, dark hair and talented hands. He smirks at her, and she tries to make her expression a little more attractive, but it doesn't matter, because Damon kisses her and removes the last of her clothing. She's waiting to feel the awkward, the moment of hesitation, because as much as she wants this, she can't be-- she couldn't not feel anything like maybe some guilt or-- but no.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Everything she has is focused on Damon, the way he kisses down her chest as his hands hold her thighs, the way his lips touch the taut skin of her stomach, the skin at her hip bone. His hands trail patterns on her legs, and she jerks upwards, even as Damon comes back up to her, a smirk on his face as he kisses her lips. She can feel the force behind his mouth, knows hers will be bruised and swollen. Her hands run through his hair and her fingers scrape at his back, and he is maybe everything she ever wanted and more.  
  
"I love you, Elena." He says, and the raw honesty in his voice is enough to make her still beneath him, find his eyes and meet them with her own.  
  
She presses her lips to his, softly, honestly, sincerely. "I know, I've always known." She holds him to her as she shifts beneath him, ready, waiting, wanting. "I love you, too."

_\--_  
_  
i saw what it was  
that i had done.  
_  
_\--_


End file.
